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You lick your lips, salivating wildly as you look at the mountain of food presented to you in celebration of your excellentness. “Let the feast begin!” you scream as you leap into a huge trifle, swimming in the cream as you guzzle it all down.
“Hurrah Brony Hero!” All the ponies cheer as they seat themselves around the massive table, each politely taking a plate of food as you swim through the dessert. Surfacing for breath, you grab a handful of donuts and stuff them into your mouth.
“This feast is amazing!” you mumble through a full mouth at the mayor. “All this food!” You pick up a pineapple and start to gnaw on it as your eyes rove across the selection of sweets, cakes, fruit and vegetables. Something is missing. “Hmm, do you have any bacon?”
“Bacon?” The mayor raises an eyebrow. “What’s bacon?”
You roll your eyes at the silly pony, happy to teach her the wise ways of humanity. “Oh, bacon is meat from pigs, cut into thin strips and fried!” You drool slightly at the thought of sizzling bacon. “It goes with anything!”
The room falls silent as all the ponies drop what they are eating and stare at you.
“Is… is the pig okay?” Carrot Top is the first to speak, hiding behind a pile of broccoli.
You laugh heartily. “Of course not, it gets cut up into choice cuts of meat! Hey, I could really do with some pork now! Or chicken! Or beef! Oh, or black pudding!” You notice the ponies staring you. “That’s congealed pigs blood in a sausage shape,” you clarify helpfully.
The ponies start to clutch at their faces in horror. “You mean… you eat animals?” the mayor squeaks, jaw drooping open.
“Well, yes…” you look at the ponies in confusion. “Of course I do. But don’t worry!” you quickly say. “I don’t eat ponies. I’m not French!”
“Monster! A monster!” There is a kerfuffle of motion as the ponies start to scream, kicking away from the table and running about the room in panic.
“No, I’m not a monster! I just enjoy eating the flesh of fellow living creatures!” You attempt to salvage the situation but it is too late! As you run after individual ponies to explain, others start to retaliate, throwing fruit and plates at your head. Throwing your arms over your head for protection, you run out of the main doors to freedom.
There is a sickening crunch, and you black out.
You awaken feeling oddly numb. You can dimly hear the beeping of a heart monitor, and a bright white ceiling above your head. You try to move your neck to get a better view of the room but to your horror you find that you are unable to. In fact, you can’t move anything!
“Aha, he’s awake!” You glimpse the face of a male pony wearing a stethoscope in the corner of your available vision. “You’re lucky you know!” he chides. “In order to stop you escaping, a pony dropped a piano on your head, shattering your spine. Don’t worry; you should be up and about in a day or so.”
Beads of sweat prick at your forehead. “Humans don’t work the same as cartoon ponies!” you gasp out, every word causing you agony. “We don’t heal like that!”
“Oh.” The doctor’s face falls. “I guess we’re in for the long haul then.” His large, clumsy hooves fumble with a large plastic tube. “I’ll just fit a catheter.”